


While You Were Sleeping

by joufancyhuh



Series: Just Married [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 15:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: A panicked Commander Shepard is shaken after a hard night. Her pilot knows how to help.





	While You Were Sleeping

Mayson awoke with a cold sweat beating at her brow, shivers trailing up her spine as she fought against her body’s trembling. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a nightmare about the Blitz, but there it lingered in the dark space of her cabin, the edges of it taunting her, threatening her.  
  
She radioed up to the cockpit. “Hey, are you alone?”  
  
Maybe it was the sound of her voice, the desperation he became accustomed to when she returned from that tour, or perhaps he sensed it. “Do you want me to come down there?”

“I know we said we were going to keep things professional on board, but-“  
  
“It’s okay. Let me grab my crutches and I’ll be right down. Will you be alright for that long?”

She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. “I should be.”  
  
“Don’t just sit there in the dark and brood. Turn the lights on. Need me to grab anything? Coffee? Tea?”  
  
“No.”

She could picture him, reaching for the crutches he hid under the console, readying himself for the trip down. The Normandy didn’t have an elevator down the stairs, and he had yet to find a reason to travel down them. She hated that she asked this of him, hated that he needed his crutches to help maneuver himself down the stairs instead of only using his leg braces. He hated appearing weak, especially in front of others on the ship. Hated having an audience to his struggle to her cabin.   
  
But she couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t move to even turn the light on in her cabin. Fear paralyzed her as she remained upright in bed, her cheeks stained with tears from sleep. Even now, she fought them off, guarded herself for the eventual break of that dam.  
  
She hated that the Blitz still affected her most of all.  
  
Someone in one of her clinics said that everyone came back from that mission at least a little fucked up, and compared to the others in her group, she was well-off. All she had were her flashbacks, her night terrors. Nothing substantial, no scars or head traumas. She was still able to serve, able to lead even.  
  
Time passed; she lost track of it easily, her thoughts creeping forward to consume her. A sharp tap broke her away from the memory, out of her trance. She keyed the door to open from her omni-tool, but kept the lights off so he couldn’t see the terror in her face  
  
He waited until the door shut behind him before speaking up. “I told you not to sit here in the dark.” She listened to the uneasy tapping of his crutches as he used them to feel his way around the room. When he reached the bed, he leaned them up against the wall and sat down. “Come here.”  
  
The softness of his voice shattered something within her as she scooted forward into his arms, letting them envelope her as sobs broke through her chest. She buried her face into where his shoulder and neck met as her arms locked around his waist.  
  
He stroked her back while waiting for her cries to slow. He never knew what to say in this situation, but they both knew that with him simply being there, it helped. He was a warm, familiar presence that solidified her in the present, away from the memories that plagued her.  
  
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, his hand rubbing circles into her back, her chest heaving while her eyes dampened the collar of his uniform, but in time, she calmed enough to whispered a hoarse, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Hey, don’t be sorry, May.”  
  
She turned her head so that her forehead rested against his neck, her eyes open to the dark around her. “I shouldn’t have called you down here.”  
  
“I’m glad you did. You shouldn’t deal with this alone.” He hesitated. “Did something trigger this one?”  
  
She shrugged, pulling herself further into him. “I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve had any issues.” She started to hyperventilate again, him resuming his circles in an attempt to maintain her calm.  
  
“May, stop it. You’re okay. I'm here.” He shifted to lay them both down on the bed. “Want me to spend the night?”  
  
She nodded, closing her eyes to listen the sound of his heartbeat temper her hysteria. “Please.”

“Let me radio in a copilot then.” He dragged his arms away from her to bring up the screen on his ‘tool. She ducked her face to avoid the harshness of the bright light, waking up one of the crew to take his place at the helm. When the crewman asked why, Joker barked that it was an order, not a favor.   
  
Then he regathered her in his arms, drawing her back into his side. "Sometimes, you have to show them whose boss."   
  
"Which would be me." She cracked a smile before hiding it in his side. She grew accustomed to this repetition after Elysium, calling him into her room, him comforting her and trying to get her to smile again. And this time was no different, his thumb caressing under her bottom lip as he mirrored her facial expressions.  
  
"What would you ever do without me?"   
  
She tightened her hold on him, squeezing and drawing an exaggerated, "oof" from him. "I hope I never find out."   
  
If anyone saw Joker leave the Commander’s quarters the next day, no one mentioned it to either of them. Still, Mayson kept her distance from the cockpit for the day, attempting to abate any rumors that might stir from Joker’s sleepover. She knew that it couldn’t be avoided, her ability to deal on her own almost nonexistent, but she was commanding officer on board. Even if they were technically married, she didn’t want people to think she called him down for a late night booty call.  
  
And maybe even worse than that, the truth: her PTSD woke her from sleep again, the first time in at least two years. What kind of leader did that make her, shaken by a simple flashback in her dreams?  
  
A bad one, that kind of leader.  
  
For the mission ahead, she needed focus. They flew to Noveria next, and Mayson had a good feeling that this would lead to the confrontation with Saren. The crew needed her at 100%.   
  
Noveria held answers for ending this fool’s chase.

Then everything could go back to normal.


End file.
